


A Well-Kept Secret

by converseg1rl (vanroku)



Category: Bring Me The Horizon, Justin Bieber (Musician)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Underage Drinking, joke fic taken seriously, slight Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanroku/pseuds/converseg1rl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin Bieber had a well-kept secret. He wanted nothing more than to meet Oli Sykes, the only person that could send shivers up his spine just by speaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Well-Kept Secret

**Author's Note:**

> lmao its my unprompted crackfic. i call it Bykes.

Justin Bieber had a well-kept secret. He loved metalcore and hardcore and post-hardcore music. Well, he actually liked anything that had screaming in it.

But… that wasn’t exactly the secret. Sure, few people knew his taste in music, but his actual secret was a little more… darker.

Sometimes he would lock himself in his room, slip on his headphones, turn up the music as loud as his ears could handle and proceed to imagine every singer.

Male singer.

But there was a particular person that made him shiver just by hearing his name. Oli Sykes. The singer (or rather, _screamer_ ) for Bring Me the Horizon. His voice just brought him a sick sort of pleasure.

And there was a concert coming up.

And he had his ticket purchased… along with a backstage pass.

He knew the band would probably laugh at him because… well… he was Justin fucking Bieber, people had a tendency to do that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. At all.

He was determined to meet Oli. Talk to him even.

He could feel his heart as it hammered in his chest, his door locked and his headphones on with his fingers scrolling a little too quickly to the “B” section on his iPod. He bit his lip, chose a song at random, and fell back onto his bed. Immediately the screeching of the guitars began and sharply his breath caught in his throat.

The anticipation for this concert made him want to scream. He’d finally be able to hear the man live and meet him and possibly touch him and--

He groaned quietly.

He _really_ wanted to meet Oli fucking Sykes.

 

…

 

“Oi, Oli,” the man’s band mate, Lee, called, “wanna go to the ba’ with us?” Everyone else was already outside, and the look on Lee’s face was screaming at Oli to abandon the teenager in favor of getting shit-faced in a public environment.

“Nah,” the brunet shouted back, “got me my sexy ladies he’e to keep me company.” He held up two bottles of vodka by their necks. “’m good.” Awkwardly, Justin stood beside the man, watching the group as they left with a glint of nervousness in his eyes.

Loading…

Justin’s eyes widened slightly.

The fact that Oli was alone with him in this room sent a sweet little tremble up his spine. “Why are they leaving?” His lungs were twitching, as were his vocal chords, and he knew he was talking a bit fast. He closed his mouth and stared up at the man with his cheeks slightly heating up.

Oli smirked at him, either ignoring his nervousness or not noticing it at all.

Justin wanted him to speak, because he also kind of had a thing with British accents.

It was the best of both worlds.

…But that was sort of the reason.

He needed to break the ice.

“Alrigh’, Justin,” Oli said, his Sheffield accent thick and his voice somewhat grating with exertion, “wha’ you wont to talk abou’?” He seated himself on the couch, throwing his right arm over the back. He smirked at the minor and patted the space beside him. Justin withheld himself and suppressed the stupid little fan boy that wanted to scream. He sat with a ridiculous amount of space between them with his back straight and rigid.

“Aww, c’mon,” the elder grinned, “I won’ bite… ha’d.” Justin could hardly contain himself. However, he’s dealt with situations like this before (meeting a celebrity he idolized/was sexually attracted to). He couldn’t go acting weird all of the sudden. He had to stay cool. Calm.

He moved a bit closer and allowed himself to relax. When his back touched the couch Oli said, “Tha’s be’ah.”

“Anyway,” Justin said, calming his frazzled nerves with a well-practiced exhale, “I’m a really big fan of yours.”

“I’d nevah expect tha’ from you of all people.” Oli laughed. “I reckoned you’d rathah listen to tha’ hip hop bullshet.”

He actually made Oli laugh.

Justin smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, people tell me that all the time. What’s it like being in a band like this? ‘Cause I gotta admit, I’ve never had that many people so amped up like that before.”

The man smiled and Justin dug his fingers into the coarse fabric of his jeans. “‘ey, kid, I’ve nevah sold ou’ arenas like you do. I should be asking you tha’ question.” Justin grinned. It was getting a lot easier to talk to him.

“Well, yeah. It’s pretty cool having girls screaming your name--” Oli laughed and Justin felt his cheeks sear, “--but I never get to hear electric guitars or badass drums, well-- unless I’m playing them. It’s all pop music.”

“You’re righ’ the’e. I don’ think I could like, evah deal with tha’ shet.”

Justin shrugged. “Pays pretty well.”

“But is it really whot you wont to do?”

Justin leaned a little further into the couch. He had never really thought of that before. After a bit of silence he said, “I guess not.”

“You could start a rock band,” Oli said, “tha’ Nevah Shou’ Nevah kid did.”

Justin played with the hem of his shirt as he stared thoughtfully at the carpet. “I don’t know how to scream, though. And my voice doesn’t really suit rock.”

Oli laughed again, “Hell, I don’t know how to sing. I could try to teach you though, sometime. We tour here a lot.”

The teen grinned up at him. “Really?”

“Yah, sure.” Oli grabbed the bottle of vodka and swirled off the cap with a tattooed hand, knocking back the alcohol with a smile. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and noticed that the small brunet was unabashedly staring at him, somewhat curious and a tiny bit horrified. “Where ‘re my mannahs?” The man smirked, “Wont a sip?”

The glass bottle was being held out to him, and hesitatingly the pop star accepted it. Staring at it, he decided that without it, Oli may just up and leave him behind because he was too much of a prude. He felt a bit pathetic, but he wanted nothing more than the man’s acceptance.

“How can you even drink so much?” he asked quietly, bringing the bottle to his lips with a trembling hand. The alcohol burned his throat but he refused to show his discomfort. He handed back the bottle with a slight frown.

“Lots o’ practice.”

Justin never had alcohol, so it only took a few sips to actually get him drunk. Oli was laughing beside him, drinking vodka straight out of the bottle like it was water with a mischievous smile on his lips. “I can’ believe I actually got innocen’ li’le Justin Biebah wasted.”

Justin loved the fact that, as Oli drank more and more, his accent grew harsh and thick.

“Hey,” Justin said, lolling his head in Oli’s direction, “I’m not innocent.” He broke into giggles.

“Mmhmm,” Oli hummed, taking another swig. He was getting a bit there himself.

“I can show you that I’m not innocent,” Justin said, demeanor suddenly serious, yet suggestive. He may have been wasted, but he knew an opportunity when it arose.

“Go ahead.”

Justin moved quickly, surprising himself when he discovered he wasn’t clumsy. He straddled Oli’s lap and took the bottle of alcohol from his hands, taking a brave, hefty swig himself.

“Vodka,” Oli began slowly. He was a little taken off guard by the fact that he had the teen in his lap, “You’re soch a big boy--”

Justin crashed his mouth down onto the man’s, lips forceful and eyes closed. His grip on the neck of the bottle was tight and he shivered when he felt Oli’s mouth pressing back and his hands grabbing the alcohol from him. The elder pulled away and moved the bottle to his lips once again, downing the rest of the contents with the comment, “I’m g’na need thes.”

His mouth moved to Justin’s again, his hand dropping the glass bottle onto the ground as his other hand rested on the teen’s hip. With a shiver, he gripped Oli’s shirt, his lips moving against the man’s as his mind went into shock. Here he was, kissing the man who he never thought he would meet in person. He was in the lap of the man he never thought he would meet. Hell, he had the tongue of the man he never thought he’d meet moving inside his mouth, tasting bitterly like vodka.

His spine arched slightly and his body pressed against Oli’s when the man’s tattooed hands slid beneath his shirt, up his hips, tracing his sides as if he actually had curves. When he broke the kiss, panting lightly against the younger brunet’s mouth, he mumbled, “Kissing is like, pre’y innocen’.”

“Then fuck me,” Justin said bravely, challenging the rocker. His words were somewhat slurred and his mind was incoherent, but this wasn’t the alcohol talking. He wanted this.

Oli hummed and drummed his fingers lightly on Justin’s skin. “I d’no...”

Moving his body closer, Justin rested his thighs confidently around the man’s hips as his knees dug into the plush fabric of the couch. He bit down lightly on Oli’s bottom lip, drawing a light hiss that went straight to the man’s skinny jeans. “Don’t say I’m innocent,” he growled against Oli’s mouth, trailing his hand down his chest.

“I think I like this a lo’ be’ah.”

Oli pressed his lips to the teen’s, hungrily moving his mouth down his jaw to his throat, searching for the place that would make him moan. “That kinda tickles,“ Justin giggled, yelping when the man bit down onto his neck to shut him up. Oli’s hands tightened on his hips, his tongue brushing over the wound he inflicted on the teen. With a grunt, Justin dug his fingers further into the man’s shirt, his mind racing and a moan on his lips when his mouth moved to just beneath his ear.

Justin couldn’t suppress his whimpers and he felt the brunet chuckle against his skin, moving to another spot to suck on lightly. He felt as if he were wavering, so he tilted his head back as his hands trailed up Oli’s chest to grip his shoulders. In a selfish attempt to relieve some of the tension in his jeans, he rolled his hips, feeling Oli pause to groan against his throat.

Rolling his hips again, he shivered when he felt Oli’s fingers drag up his sides, pulling the bunched hem of his shirt along with them. Justin’s shirt was shed and the man’s mouth moved down to his collarbones, drawing small embarrassing sounds from his vocal chords. The marks Oli left him were growing in number and Justin really couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed evidence to show himself this really happened.

Oli shifted beneath him, moving so quickly that Justin’s cloudy mind didn’t register that he was on his back until the man’s body was pinning him to the couch. The man’s chest was bare now as well and that fact alone made Justin groan with want. The elder brunet sat up between his bent knees, a lazy smirk on his mouth as he stared down at the teen’s stomach. “You ‘ave tattoos. Tha’s cute.”

“Shut up,” Justin slurred. “I don’t want to be covered in them.”

“You well be soon. I tend to ‘ave that effect on the people I fuck,” Oli laughed. Justin felt his cheeks burn.

With that said, his fingers quickly worked on the button to Justin’s jeans, a smirk rising to his mouth when he heard him moan quietly beneath him as his hand brushed against his clothed erection. “I ‘aven’t even really to’ched you yet, imagine the sounds you’ll be makin’ when I do.” He yanked down the teen’s jeans past his thighs, down his knees, tossing them onto the ground unceremoniously.

There Justin lay beneath the man, his only covering his boxers. He stared up at him, cheeks warm and mouth parted. His eyes repeatedly focused and unfocused, struggling hard to keep Oli as one person opposed to the double vision that plagued him. “What?” he slurred, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Suck me off,” the elder said, leaning over the teen, never breaking the somewhat smug eye contact he held with him. Blindly he groped at the table beside the couch for the other bottle of vodka that was sitting there earlier. “I need a few mo’.”

“Ahh, fuck,” Justin mumbled quietly. He sat up, watching Oli as he leaned onto the other arm rest, biting his lip hesitatingly as he watched the man twist off the cap.

“I ‘aven’t got all day,” he said, bringing the bottle to his mouth with a small smile. He opened his knees and waited patiently for the teen. “This is whot big kids do.”

Justin rolled his eyes and moved his hands to Oli’s belt, undoing it with confident hands. However, when he unbuttoned the man’s jeans and stared down at the tent in his boxers, he felt his confidence drain away. “Lemme see some of that,” he said, grabbing the bottle from Oli. He took one last swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before handing the alcohol back to him.

Oli watched the teen carefully, his mouth on the opening of the bottle, sipping every so often to calm himself. He wasn’t exactly too keen on fucking a guy (an underage one at that), but he had to admit, the kid was pretty ballsy and he hadn’t exactly had a good fuck in a while. He saw his hesitance, but when he felt a mouth around his appendage, he couldn’t suppress the groan that rose in the back of his throat.

Here he tossed his head back, downing as much of the alcohol as he could before he nearly choked. “Fuck,” he groaned, his grip on the bottle shaky as his eyes watched the brunet once again. The vodka dribbled down his chin and trickled to the back of his neck, his head tilting back as the hand that gripped the bottle fell slack at his side. “Fuck,” he repeated. The moist warmth around his cock was torture, and the tongue rolling beneath the sensitive organ was enough to make him moan a little too loudly. He stilled his hips, his body begging to ram himself down the teen’s throat but his foggy mind holding him back.

Justin, meanwhile, was stumbling through his movements, pushing his mouth further onto the man’s length as he sucked hard. Despite the alcohol in his system, his gag reflex was dormant and allowed him to go further and further down. Dragging his teeth lightly on his cock accidentally, he heard Oli moan again, a hollow sound in the back of his throat that made the younger brunet shiver around him and make a similar sound. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing, but from the way that the rocker was reacting, he felt he was doing something right. He hollowed his cheeks, bobbed his head, and immediately the man lost whatever control he had.

His fingers laced through Justin’s shaggy hair, pulling tight as he forced himself further, thrusting his cock roughly down the teen’s throat. However, with Justin choking around him, he finally managed to organize his thoughts enough to realize what was going on and he pulled off the teen, their eyes meeting and their mouths doing the same (after a bit of gasping for air from the young brunet) soon after. Oli pulled Justin into his lap by the fists in his hair, hips thrusting up against him, desperate for the friction his body craved for.

“Who knew Justin Biebah co’d actualleh suck cock?”

“It’s ‘cause I’m drunk,” the teen slurred in retaliation. “I don’t even know how.”

It was only a moment later when Oli found Justin without boxers lying atop him, and it took the teen a bit to notice that Oli was working on stretching him out. Their mouths continued moving together, tongues brushing against one another as the pop star grasped desperately at his hair. Whimpers rose from the teen’s throat, driving the intoxicated man further as two fingers turned to three.

Sharply, Justin nearly yelped, his fingers tightening even further, pulling hard as Oli moved his digits inside of him, scissoring and lazily thrusting. Justin never expected the feeling of fingers inside of him to sting so much, but as they moved a little deeper, he gasped, feeling a little spark of pleasure shooting up his spine. His hands moved to the arm rest, pushing himself onto his hands, digging his blunt fingernails into the warm material that covered it as he allowed a quiet moan to escape his throat. His stomach arched downwards, his teeth moving to his lip as Oli brushed against it once again.

And again.

And again.

Pressing every so often against the teen’s prostate, Oli smirked from below him, pressure purposely light.

“Tease,” Justin whispered hoarsely, quickly moving back onto the man’s fingers. He whimpered, eyes clenching shut hard as he felt Oli withdraw them with a snicker.

“This is gonna hurt,” the man said as he spat into his hand, coating his erection with his saliva, a sort of meager, half-assed attempt to make things a little smoother for the teen. Gripping the backs of Justin’s thighs, he slowly began pushing up into him, eyes watching the teen’s arms as they shook slightly.

“Aah, shit,” the pop singer ground out, gasping when Oli thrust the rest of his length into him sharply.

“Virgin?” All Justin could do was nod vigorously in response. Oli couldn’t help but grin at the new information.

“I’ll give yo’ ten seconds,” Oli whispered, voice shaky as he resisted moving at all, resting his head back onto the arm rest. Closing his eyes, he groaned lightly. The tightness around his member was nearly too much to handle, and he wanted nothing more than to slam hard into it, with brutal volleys that would make the teen scream.

Justin panted, adopting a higher pitch as he attempted to calm his nerves. Oli was inside of him. Oli was inside of him, and it hurt like hell. However, he was more concerned with the fact that the star of his wet dreams was actually _inside_ of him.

“Move,” he slurred, and immediately the man pulled out, slamming back into him with enough force to rock his entire frame. He readjusted his hands with a small grunt and tilted his head downwards as Oli repeated his actions again.

And again.

And again.

Harder and harder each time.

Oli moaned and chewed on his lip, his hips moving quickly as they continually thrust into the pop star’s eager body. Justin opened his eyes, and all they could take in were the _colors_. Reds, purples, and pinks were vibrant against the man’s light skin, glistening with sweat. The teen couldn’t help but admire the way the tattoos moved as the man’s muscles contracted with each volley.

His reserved grunts were quickly replaced by moans as Oli finally hit his prostate. “Right there,” Justin moaned, closing his eyes with a louder sound escaping his lips. “Right _there._ ”

Oli spread Justin’s legs a bit further, pressing their lower halves closer together as he readjusted his hips before thrusting sharply back into him. The teen’s arms nearly buckled, and he was nearly _screaming_ as Oli’s hips moved even faster. Never had the teen felt such an intense pleasure, not even simulated in his wildest dreams. And, with the way his hips were moving in time with the man’s, his cock was in a place where it was pressed tightly between the two of them, with enough friction to keep his arms in place.

Oli’s tattooed hand slid up his side, moving between them, wrapping around Justin’s length with a grip that nearly prematurely brought him to his peak. He and wantonly thrust into his hand, flicking his hair out of his gaze. He tilted his head back, cursing with a hoarse voice.

Oli’s grunts and moans were drowned out by the teen’s, but the elder brunet could hardly care. This screaming contest was one-sided and not once in his life had he ever felt so satisfied. Justin’s shrieking was gorgeous, and it marked the snapping of his final thread of innocence that his record company struggled to preserve for money’s sake. With one hand around his cock and the other groping his ass, Oli felt pleasantly satisfied that he had the privilege of corrupting the pop sensation. He knew he’d never even have the opportunity to fuck a more than willing virgin again, so he was having more fun than he should have been having (with Justin Bieber of all people). A smirk worked its way onto his mouth and he angled his hips a little differently.

Justin’s volume was steadily rising, and he never knew he could scream so loudly. All the while, the man continuously rolled his hips, wanting nothing more than to perpetuate the teen’s soprano.

“Harder!” the pop singer screamed, a choked noise rising in his throat as his request was heeded.

Oli’s hand moved to the back of Justin’s neck, pulling him downwards, forcing him onto his elbows roughly as their mouths melded together. The kiss, however, did nothing but muffle the sounds the teen was making, and Oli was feverishly harshening his staccato thrusting. Sharply, the younger brunet broke the kiss, stuttering against the man’s mouth, “Sh-shit!” before he came, his seed spilling onto the man’s tattooed hand vigorously.

Burying his face into the teen’s neck, Oli moaned, feeling him tighten around his length. His hips stuttered and he followed after a few more thrusts, shamelessly coming inside the teen. He rode out his orgasm, thrusting slowly, shallowly into Justin, his hands moving to his waist with a tight grip. 

When his hips slowed to a stop, his head fell back once again as he panted hard, his body exhausted. He felt Justin collapse onto him, his breaths shaky and strained. Slowly, he pulled out of the teen, hearing him moan lightly and dig his fingers into his arms.

“’M tired,” Justin slurred, pushing himself back onto his trembling arms.

“Reckon you’d be,” Oli replied, pulling his sticky hand off of the teen’s waist. He stared at it with a grimace before wiping it onto the couch.

“Mom’s gonna be so _mad_.” With that said, the teen struggled to sit up, gasping when he did. “Ahh, fuck, it hurts.”

“Tha’ tends to ‘appen.”

“Gonna have to keep this secret,” he whispered, groping at the couch to keep himself erect. “I…”

“M’ cool with tha’,” Oli interjected, his foggy mind somewhat calmed at the teen’s statement. Fucking a male minor by the name of Justin Bieber isn’t exactly something one would want getting out. For the both of them.

“I have to go home,” Justin slurred. “But I don’t want my mom to see me like this…”

“We’re not leaving until tomorrow afternoon,” Oli said. “You can sleep off the hangovah and all that othah bullshet he’e if you wont.” The man was feeling generous and he hadn’t a clue why.

…Must be the vodka.

“She’ll be mad--” Justin fell to the floor with a thump, groaning as he groped at his surroundings for his pants. Oli sputtered, laughing at the teen’s clumsiness. When the younger brunet found his boxers and jeans, he pulled them on, curling up on the floor in his exhaustion. Faintly, the man heard him mumble “I better remember this in the morning,” before Justin promptly fell unconscious.

Oli sighed and pulled on his jeans, cracking a smirk as he prepared himself to drag the teen to an empty bunk. “I can’t believe I just fucked Justin fuckin’ Biebah.”

**Author's Note:**

> the temptation to orphan this fucker is so real


End file.
